


Always Mine - A Black Dagger Brotherhood Novel

by Phoenix (Hawk)



Category: Black Dagger Brotherhood - J. R. Ward
Genre: M/M, Vampires, Violence, explicit male sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawk/pseuds/Phoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qhuinn's been fighting what's in his heart for a very long time. Pretending it wasn't real; that it would go away if he could only find those right ingredients to make his life all better. A female of worth and his own young. And when Blaylock was brought back to the mansion seriously injured, Qhuinn was terrified he might be too late. </p><p>Too late to tell his male that he'd finally discovered what really mattered in his life. And that being without Blay was not an option.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Mine - A Black Dagger Brotherhood Novel

Disclaimer: I do not own the fandom of the Black Dagger Brotherhood. I make no money on this work of fiction. I have no connection to JR Ward, who is the owner and author of all original Black Dagger Brotherhood works. This was written purely for fun because I love playing with the boys and they bring me so much joy. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The plot of this story and any of its original characters are the property of this author. No copyright infringement is intended. 

 

I've played a little with canon, such a removing at least one character, but I plead artistic license plus the fact that some good things can't happen under certain circumstances and that would just spoil the fun.

 

 

CHAPTER 1

He felt the pain grab his chest, steel bands tightening around his rib cage like quick drying cement. Crushing, weighting him down till his lungs were pressed flat. He fought but the air wasn't getting in and he felt his life bleeding away like light at the end of the day.

He reached out, barely able to lift his arms through the weakness seeping through him. And it took three tries before he could get his voice strong enough to push through the darkness settling over him.

"Please," it was a low croak. "Don't leave me. Please! I can't do this anymore. I need you."

The figure in front of him stopped walking. He stood frozen in place and with a huge sigh, dropped his head forward. The still figure's chest hitched once as if he were catching a stray sob and his hands clenched at his sides. The anguish pulsing off him in waves, he drew himself to his full height and started turning slowly. But before he could complete his turn, though, before he could come face to face with the male pleading behind him, darkness washed over him and he disappeared as if he'd never been.

"NO!" Qhuinn finally dragged in a painful gasp of air and shrieked it away. "I'm nothing without you. Please come back!"

His back arched off the bed, his fingers twisting in the sheets, as he came awake instantly. The raw pain tore through him like… well, like… fangs. As he dragged great, gulping breaths deep into his burning lungs he felt his fangs punch into his mouth; long, slick and sharp, promising a relief he knew was false.

If he thought ripping open any veins he could reach with those razor sharp incisors would do him any good, would bleed away this pain along with the hell that was his life, he'd have done it in a heartbeat. But it didn't work that way. And despite the agony he felt every time he looked at his best friend, he was too much of a coward to give up that life.

After all, this was where Blaylock was and if Qhuinn checked out he'd never see his friend again. Never touch that smooth, hard body in an accidental brush as he passed by. Never draw in the warm, spicy scent of Blay's skin, his blood, whenever Qhuinn thought he could get away with it.

And that just wasn't an option.

Qhuinn threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, grunting softly at the pain sweeping through his body. The run-ins they'd had last night with the _lessers_ had instilled their own level of hurt but the agony that had rolled over him in his nightmare had all but finished him off. He rubbed his chest over the lingering ache, still fighting to draw a full breath, and pushed off the bed.

Feeling like an old man, he dragged himself into the bathroom and cranked on the shower. He used the toilet as the water heated up then dragged himself into the stall with a noticeable lack of energy. He braced his palms against the tiles, his head dropped forward, and let the hot water beat down on his head and shoulders. As soon as he closed his eyes, the dream rushed back at him. This time he took control of it and willed it to the finish he wanted.

The figure in front of him turned and started back toward him. And as he stepped out of the shadows and the light hit his face full on, Qhuinn gasped at the beauty of the male smiling at him.

Blaylock's bare skin was smooth porcelain, pale and creamy. His blue eyes blazed like a hot, sultry summer sky. The warm red of his hair glittered in the light and fell over his forehead in a lush wave, curling gently at the nape of his neck. It invited the thrust of fingers, winding deep in the silky weight, holding tight, pulling close.

A strong jaw, chiseled cheekbones and the thick column of his neck sliding down to the wide sweep of muscled shoulders and back stopped his beauty from being pretty. This was a pure masculine beauty; rugged, tough, yet still breathtaking.

Qhuinn felt his chest lock as he tried to draw breath into lungs that wouldn't move. Blaylock was magnificent. His broad chest and thick arms were hard, the muscles sleek but well defined. Qhuinn's gaze stroked down over Blay's ridged six pack and the narrow hips, over the perfectly formed and beautiful cock hanging heavy between his spread legs and nestled against rounded tight balls, before tracking hotly down the hard columns of his thighs.

As tall as Qhuinn, at six feet four, both males towered over the average male of the race. But for Qhuinn, it meant he could look deep into his best friend's eyes easily. And he wanted to do that. He wanted to see the same feelings burning deep in those bright blue eyes that he felt burning in his own mismatched ones.

And that was where the daydream abruptly ended, drifting up into the room with the steam rising from the shower. Despite the hot water beating on Qhuinn's back, a harsh shiver ran through him. Because no matter how strong the feelings were that burned inside him, he knew he'd never be able to turn them loose on Blaylock.

Because the _glymera_ didn't approve of homosexuality.

In truth, surprisingly, the _glymera_ didn't _disapprove_ of homosexuality as long as it was a sideline to a perfectly acceptable heterosexual relationship. You could be as gay as you wanted as long as it was _very_ discreet and outside of a proper marriage bed. After all, appearances were what laced up the _glymera_ world and their world was so tightly laced that batting your eyelashes outside of a bedroom was nearly a hanging offense, even when done toward your perfectly acceptable heterosexual mate.

Qhuinn had been raised in a family where the acceptance and values of the _glymera_ meant more than the well-being and happiness of any individual within that family. The _glymera_ , that aristocratic, social core of the vampire race that determined the worth of everybody by how far down their noses they had to look at you. The farther down the stare you were, the less you were worth.

And Qhuinn was already a write-off because of the genetic defect of being born with mismatched eyes, a defect that didn't correct itself when he went through his transition, as hoped.

He knew he'd been only tolerated as everyone waited for that day, secretly hoping for some big cosmic correction, and when it didn't happen he had also known it would only be a matter of time before someone, his father, most likely, decided there was no longer any point in keeping him around. Whether his father made that decision on his own or under pressure from the _glymera_ wouldn't matter. The end result would be the same.

Despite being treated as completely unworthy of even drawing breath, Qhuinn still prayed for acceptance within his family. He believed he needed to find a female of worth, someone he could mate with so then he could become a beloved son, accepted with pride and love as his brother and sister were. And for that he still needed the approval of the _glymera_.

As Qhuinn dressed for the coming night's patrol he couldn't push away his rampaging thoughts. And the pain twisted deep in his chest as he realized that as long as the _glymera's_ approval held that much weight for him, the wall between him and Blay would never come down.

###

"Damn, that was brutal," Butch growled harshly as he staggered into the billiards room and headed straight for the bar.

Despite already having been healed by Vishous in the field after sucking down several _lessers_ in his role as The Dhestroyer, Butch was still unsteady on his feet. Vishous shot him a concerned look, taking in the still slightly gray cast to the cop's face.

Butch splashed a generous amount of Lagavulin into a squat, cut crystal glass and raised it in a shaky toast toward his roommate. "Relax, bro, I'm fine thanks to your ever fabulous healing."

He swallowed a large mouthful as Vishous stepped close to him.

"You still look rough, cop." Despite his attempt at being casual, solid about it, his deep-seated worry over the half vampire roughened his voice into a harsh growl.

Butch's eyes sharpened as he caught the emotion boiling in those diamond white orbs holding him captive and without thinking, he reached out and hooked his hand around V's neck. His fingers pressed into the hard muscles as he tightened his grip and he stepped another inch closer, the air barely separating them heating up.

"You always take good care of me, Vishous, the best. I'm fine," he murmured, almost a whisper.

"See you stay that way," V growled and stepped right into Butch.

His mouth came down on the cop's, his tongue sweeping across his lips, tasting the bite of the Scotch. Butch reacted instinctively, opening his mouth to the vampire's demand, and in a quick, hard sweep V took his mouth, his tongue.

Butch sucked in a shivery gasp but Vishous was already moving away, throwing back his glass of Grey Goose. When Butch finally clamped a lid on the sudden lust boiling through his blood he shot a fast look over the room. The only one who appeared to have caught the play was Qhuinn and at the dark pain twisting his face, Butch knew immediately what was going through the young vampire's mind.

A sudden clamoring noise coming from the entryway had heads snapping around. Butch, Vishous, Qhuinn and John were the first teams back in and they all ran to the entryway to see which group was showing up now. And the sharp voices echoing around the newcomers gave them a heads up that whoever it was wasn't bringing good news with them.

"Blay!" Qhuinn yelled, crossing the foyer in four steps.

The young redhead was hanging between Rhage and Tohrment, his face bloodied, his head hanging loosely on his neck. His shirt hung in tatters across his chest and Qhuinn's breath locked in his lungs as he saw the gaping slash from his right shoulder down to his left hip. Then his eyes dropped, searching for the source of the blood dripping from the bottom of his leathers and a broken cry tore from him when he saw the deep stab in Blay's thigh visible through the torn pants.

Wrath's heavy steps thundered down the staircase behind them and Qhuinn was barely aware of the king's harsh curse.

"What the fuck next?" Wrath snarled, lifting Blay's head up gently. "Get him down to the PT room. Why didn't you take him directly to Havers'?"

"They were right on our asses," Tohr replied coldly. "We didn't want to risk leading them to the clinic if we couldn't lose them. Rhage called him from the car. He should be here any second."

He'd barely finished speaking when the bell rang.  Fritz appeared almost instantly and everyone held their breaths as the old butler hurried to open the door.

"Doctor, welcome, please come in," Fritz urged the well-dressed male.

Qhuinn couldn't tear his gaze from his friend and barely heard the doctor excusing himself as he stepped in front of Qhuinn to give his patient a quick once-over.

"I'll need to operate," he spoke softly, his professional voice never wavering. "These wounds are deep and will need closing. And I'll have to replace the blood loss."

Qhuinn stood in shock, everything numb, as Blay was carried to the stairs leading down to the mansion's clinic. Most of the conversation slipped by him, the only words catching in his brain were… _severe blood loss… transfusion to keep him alive till he could feed… need to work fast._

Those last words broke through the ice locking his body tight and he dragged in a deep, harsh gasp. My god, he could die! Blaylock was on the edge of death! No, no, this couldn't be happening. He couldn't lose him, especially without telling him --

Qhuinn looked up as a warm hand gripped his forearm tightly and he found himself staring into John's amazing blue eyes. He could see knowledge burning in that gaze; understanding of the anguish tearing Qhuinn apart.

 _Go,_ John's hands moved. _Be with him._

Qhuinn took a step toward the staircase, stopping when John caught his arm again.

 _Tell him, Qhuinn._ _Before you can't._

Qhuinn's eyes locked on John's for long moments. He fought against the terror trying to drag down his body, hating the cold storm raging through him, tearing him in two directions. John was right. He loved Blaylock, had to tell him before Blay was taken from him and that door was closed.

But in that instant, again, as always when faced with that choice, images flooded his mind. Images that dragged him back through the hell of his past. Reminders of all the rejection, the abandonment, the pain of praying that he would finally be accepted, in his family and in the vampire race. But never would be without acceptance from the _glymera_.

Which would never come with Blaylock as his mate.

He knew the decision was plain to see. He could see it reflected on John's face, could see the regret burn in his friend's eyes and in that moment, he hated himself. With a roar of anger, of loss, he wrenched free and ran for the front door.

 

CHAPTER 2

"What do you mean he's gone!" Wrath bellowed.

John's hands flashed and Tohr turned to the king. "He's torn up over Blay's injuries."

"So instead of waiting around to see if his friend pulls through, he runs out, with no backup, to leave himself open to the same shit? How the fuck does that make any sense?" He slammed his fist on his desk and turned to John. "And where does he get off leaving your side, anyway? It's his fucking job to stay close to you."

Tohr watched John's hands once again and when he started speaking Wrath waved him off impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, I got enough of that. If you aren't safe here at home…" he trailed off.

"Shit, the sun's gonna be up in a couple of more hours. Tohr, you and Rhage go get him. Before he gets himself killed. Or fried. And smack some sense into him on the way back, while you're at it," he grumbled. "I've always said the fucking _glymera_ was a miserable organization and causes more trouble than it's worth and whoever decided _they_ should be able to determine who can love who should be staked out and gutted."

John slowly followed Tohr and Rhage out of Wrath's office. He hurt for his friends. They had been the first to accept him when Tohr brought him here before his transition. A mute, an orphan, a scrawny stick of a child always hovering on the edge of physical pain and emotional anguish, John had been alone, cast out, viewed as a useless piece of humanity. Not knowing who or what he was, good only for fodder as those abandoned often are. And it never changed despite growing up, despite leaving childhood for young adulthood. John was either pushed to the edge of fading endurance as just another tool of someone's labor or as prey to the uncountable predators roaming the streets on the lookout for those forgotten.

Qhuinn and Blaylock had been the first to welcome him in this new world, this new life, unconditionally, with no judgment. They were the first to set the brakes on the out of control spin that had been his life and he'd never forget that.

His stomach churned, fear and helplessness twisting him into knots, and he clenched his fists over his inability to make things right for either of them now. He found himself agreeing wholeheartedly with the king. And thought about how he'd like to be the one doing the gutting.

###

The roaring in his ears was deafening him but he couldn't figure out how to shut it up. Didn't know where it was coming from. He staggered around a corner, his breath knocked out of him as he slammed into a dumpster. Dumpster? Ok, he was in an alley somewhere. But where? And why, for the Scribe Virgin's sake!

Qhuinn tried again to get his eyes opened enough to see where the hell he was and again, it was nearly impossible. Nothing was making any sense and the only thing he was fairly sure of was the burning need to get the hell out of the open, to get hidden.  He hung on to the filthy receptacle, feeling along the edge of it and pushed his way into the narrow space behind it. The panic receded a little as he dropped his head back against the wall but it didn't seem to help dispel his confusion any. And the racket in his ears sounded like it was still at the same decibel level.

He pulled in several long, deep breaths, holding the last one in before letting it out slowly. And that seemed to do it. Well, a little. The roaring in his ears muted slowly and this time when Qhuinn rubbed his hands over his eyes, they opened.

His vision blurred as he blinked several times before realizing he was trying to see through the blood running from the deep gash in his left temple. He swiped an arm through the mess, trying to clean it away, and sucked in a sharp gasp as pain shot through his head again. Ok, no noise, not if he wanted to stay hidden from… whatever he couldn't remember. He focused on his breathing, riding out the knife that was stabbing holes in his skull to let that damn roaring back in again. Slowly, slowly, the pain receded and the surf in his skull faded back to a not too distant memory.

Qhuinn pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, careful to stay away from the wound in his temple. He inched his eyelids up slowly, grunting silently in satisfaction that nothing was blurry this time. He could still feel the warm blood trickling down his face but it seemed to be staying out of his eyes this go around. He let his mind drift, trying to figure out what the hell he was doing out here and why he was bleeding. As he tried to pick through his memories for one that fit, he instinctively checked himself out for any further damage.

He felt like he did after a serious workout with one of the Brothers. He had aches on top of his pains and knew there were bruises blooming all over him, judging by the feel of it, not to mention a serious burn sinking into his right side. And as he scanned down the length of his body, he saw patches of black… _something_ soaked into his t-shirt and down one pant leg. What the hell? He fingered the almost oily substance and brought his hand up to his nose. He grimaced at the sickly-sweet smell. _What the --_

The fog in his brain disintegrated like mist in a wind and the answer slammed into him. _Lessers!_ And just like that, it was all back.

Blaylock was hurt! Badly! And in his anguish and fear, Qhuinn had bolted from the mansion, looking for vengeance. For revenge. The need to hurt, to kill, to _destroy_ those creatures who'd dared to injure, maybe fatally, the male who _should_ be his mate but probably never would had overwhelmed his common sense, his reasoning. He'd run, knowing it was suicidal to do this alone but needing desperately to give to his beautiful male the only thing he was able to and knowing it would never be enough.

And not caring that he had to stay quiet, to stay hidden till he was sure the enemy wasn't tracking him, Qhuinn threw back his head. The anguish burning a hole through his heart -- his _soul_ \-- couldn't be contained and as he opened his mouth to scream it away, the knife-edge of pain lanced back through him. As the blackness sucked him down, he didn't know if he'd released his horror.  And he didn't feel the hands catching at him, pulling him from behind the dumpster.

Bumps, jars, hands all over him; images and sensory input stuttered through him like lightning flashes but it was the voices that finally cracked through the fog weighting him down. As they got louder, the fog lifted more until he realized he was lying on a gurney in the mansion's clinic. And the instant that thought took life in his head, the memory was there.

"Blaylock!"

Qhuinn tried to sit up but between the numerous injuries holding reign over him and the many hands pressing him against the bed, it didn't happen. He realized the deep, shaky groan he was hearing was coming from him.

"Easy, boy," Vishous warned, his hand squeezing Qhuinn's shoulder gently. "You don't wanna be tearing out any stitches, true?"

Qhuinn tried to speak but his dry throat wasn't letting anything out after that first scream. He coughed a couple of times, then swallowed hard and tried again. "What happened?"

"Well," Vishous continued softly. "I'd say _lessers_ based on the black blood and the stink but the details are yours, kid."

"Not completely clear on the details," Qhuinn murmured, reaching up to brush a hand over his face.

V caught his hand, then slowly pressed his fingers to the bandage plastered over the gash on Qhuinn's temple. Qhuinn nodded in thanks and carefully swiped his palm down his face.

"I was looking. I wasn't sure I'd find the bastards who… hurt Blay but I was gonna give it a damn good shot. I went through eight or nine of them at a couple of different places but I finally found the ones I wanted. Unfortunately, they must have gotten a call out for backup because the next thing I knew four or five more showed up.

"I know I popped the ones who hurt Blay but everything after that…" Qhuinn faded out and heaved a big sigh and closed his eyes. "I'm pretty foggy after that point," he continued. "Next thing I remember was running into a dumpster and knowing I had to get outta sight. I crawled in behind, hurting like hell, and…" He lifted his hands in confusion. "Nothing. I must have passed out. So, what's the damage?

V ran practiced fingers over Qhuinn's bandaged side, then checked his vision again. "Well, you've got a concussion, not exactly mild but it won't kill you, and a pretty deep stab wound in your right side. Plus a deep gash on your left temple."

"Yeah, I do remember blood running into my eyes when I was behind the dumpster," Qhuinn said.

He looked up as Rhage approached the side of the gurney and leaned over with a grin. "Wrath told Tohr and me to smack some sense into you when we found you. You're lucky the _lessers_ got to you first. Then again, another half hour or so and none of it would've mattered. You almost made sunrise, dude."

Qhuinn's eyes shifted and he caught sight of John standing by the lockers. A twist of shame cut through him as he acknowledged his desertion of his friend. Qhuinn had a sacred responsibility to John; he was the ahstrux nohtrum. He was charged with guarding John's life with his own, if needed. And it didn't matter that he'd given only a bare thought to the idea that John should be safe in his own home, surrounded by the Brotherhood as well as the king of the vampire race. It was _his_ responsibility.

John's eyes reflected Qhuinn's thoughts and he pushed himself away from the lockers and approached the bed. Qhuinn heaved a deep sigh, exhaling hard, and held up a hand to his friend.

"I'm sorry, John, I fucked up." Qhuinn knew to fuck up in this way meant death. It was the law.

John shook his head as he squeezed Qhuinn's hand hard then let go and raised his hands.

 _It's cool, relax._ John's fingers flashed, signing out his words. _I understand and I made Wrath understand. He's pissed and you don't want to do this away from the mansion but this time, inside here, we're ok. You're lucky he hates the glymera so much._

He caught Qhuinn's hand again and squeezed his reassurance. Qhuinn took a shuddering breath and nodded, unable to voice his gratitude. Despite the fact that he accepted the possibility of dying for John, and the knowledge that his death would be required if he was negligent in his duty resulting in John's death, Qhuinn didn't want to go yet. There was a lot he wanted to do with his life before he made a final trip to the Fade, no matter what kind of shit covered him from time to time.

But right now, especially, the most important reason was lying in a coma on a bed in the adjoining room.

Blaylock.

Qhuinn had to know Blay was alright, safe. It was the only thing that mattered right now.

He raised his eyes to John, then slid a look at Vishous. He cleared his throat before he spoke but his voice was still nearly silent, cracking with anguish. "Blaylock?"

"Still in a coma." Vishous hurried on when Qhuinn sobbed brokenly. "His vitals are good, though, Qhuinn, strong and steady. So he just needs time to heal and I think he'll come out of this fine."

"Guarantee me?" Qhuinn shot back fast, the edge hard in his tone.

"You know I can't do that," V fired back just as fast. "But it all looks good."

"Except?" Qhuinn pushed hearing the 'but' in V's tone.

Vishous didn't answer, just stepped away from Qhuinn's gurney and crossed his arms over his chest. Qhuinn clamped down on the jolt of fear that stabbed deep into his stomach at the vampire's reaction and pushed himself up on one elbow.

"Except, V?" he snapped out harshly, demanding a response.

"Except he shouldn't still be in a coma," Vishous spoke quietly, frustration cutting through his tone. "His vitals are good, the wounds are healing, there doesn't seem to be a reason for the coma. Havers can't figure it out, either, and I've been researching for hours and just can't --" He broke off with a sharp shake of his head and dragged his hands through his hair.

"Vishous?" Qhuinn's voice, though soft, was shaky.

"You relax; rest." V flashed the young vampire a quick look. "I'll… keep digging. In the meantime, that concussion means you'll need to be woken up every hour or so for today, at least."

"Can I do it upstairs in my room?"

Vishous hesitated briefly, then nodded. "Get John to help you upstairs, though. I don't want you taking a header anywhere between here and there. And he can be your alarm clock for the rest of the day, as well. And you're off rotation till tomorrow night."

Qhuinn nodded. John stepped forward and Vishous clapped a hand to his shoulder before striding away. John dragged his friend's arm across his shoulders and they made their way slowly out of the clinic and down the long tunnel.

"Thanks, John." Qhuinn's voice was a low rumble as he shifted stiffly on his bed. He sighed as he felt the other vampire pull his covers up over his shoulders. "John, what the hell am I gonna do if Blaylock dies? I don't… I can't… shit, John, what the hell?"

He gave in to the press of a hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes. And saw his anguish mirrored back at him from those bright blue eyes, like a punch to the gut. And the horror spread like a cancer, not just from inside, staining his soul, but from outside as well, now.

It was a living thing, this pain, tearing at his nerves, at his vital organs, at his very cells. And he suddenly realized that if he lost Blaylock, this agony would never be gone. And no amount of approval from the _glymera_ could ever fix that.

Before he could wrap his hands around this thought, before he could make sense of this new discovery, his body betrayed him and he felt himself falling down a black hole, following the pain of his injuries. And the last thing he was conscious of was John's hand squeezing his shoulder; a reassurance and a promise.

 

CHAPTER 3

Qhuinn swam through a fog for the rest of the day, despite John waking him every hour or two. And then he was there, finally; conscious, awake, focused on the ceiling overhead. Night had fallen. The steel shutters that covered the mansion's many windows during sunlight hours were up and Qhuinn could see moonlight silvering a stripe across the carpet. He was alone and he briefly wondered if the household was at First Meal or if the Brothers were already out patrolling.

He pushed the covers off him and carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed. Grunting softly as he slid to the floor, he didn't actually feel as stiff as he had when he'd crawled into the bed. Hopefully, a hot shower would loosen him up the rest of the way so he might actually make it downstairs without having to resort to transporting himself to the kitchen, not a good idea before his head was on straight.

The faint clink of glasses and plates he heard as he stepped out into the hallway told him everyone was still eating and he headed down the huge staircase, gripping the railing tightly. The shower had helped a lot but once he started down the stairs, his muscles started reconsidering. He offered the Scribe Virgin a quick thanks as he made it all the way to the bottom without giving in to the dizziness pulsing through his head and staggered only a little as he crossed the foyer to the kitchen.

He waved a quick hand to acknowledge the greetings he heard and he sank gratefully into the chair John pulled out for him but his eyes stayed locked on Vishous.

"Well?" he got straight to the point.

The Brother's resident medic sucked in a quick breath and shook his head gently. "I'm sorry, Qhuinn, he's still out. And I haven't found any reason to explain it. His vitals are still good but he's just -- not awake."

Qhuinn pushed back. "I've got to go see him," he muttered, his voice low and hoarse.

Several loud protests rang through the room, quickly fading to echoes when Wrath slapped his palm on the table.

"You're gonna sit here and eat something first," the King's voice rang out. "You won't do him any good if you fall over so food up first, then visit the injured."

"Wrath, I --" Qhuinn's protest didn't get far.

"Don't make me hand feed you, boy," Wrath warned, his voice dangerously low. "And I'm still not over that boneheaded stunt you pulled last night or the fact you ran out on John. Don't hold yourself in my headlights for too long or I might start regretting my generosity on the whole matter."

Qhuinn knew he'd been incredibly lucky that Wrath hadn't ordered his death the minute he set foot back in the mansion, injured or not, so he shut up and pulled his chair back up to the table. He already felt like he'd let down Blay, even though he had nothing to do with the male's injuries, and he didn't want to add a further betrayal of John to the mix. He saw Wrath nod once as he started filling his plate and soon the conversations were rolling over him as he picked slowly at the pile of food in front of him.

Vishous and Butch were off duty tonight and Qhuinn found himself following the Brotherhood's almost doctor down to the clinic after the patrols had all cleared out. His fists were tight at his sides and he had to fight his instinct to break loose and run the rest of the way. Yet at the same time, the closer they got to Blay's room, the more nervous he felt. It was almost a reluctance to face his friend.

Qhuinn couldn't understand the contrary feelings swamping him. The only thing that seemed to account for it was his overwhelming feeling that he'd let Blay down. And that made no sense because as he knew he had nothing to do with his friend's injuries. It wasn't as if they'd been in the field together and carelessness on Qhuinn's part had resulted in Blay being hurt. But as he crossed the room behind Vishous and waited at the foot of his male's bed, his confusion slowly lifted.

Qhuinn watched V pull down the sheet and peel back the bandage covering Blaylock's chest. He checked the wound and satisfied at the progress of healing, tossed the bandage in the biohazard bin in the corner. He repeated the steps with the gash on Blay's cheek and the deep stab wound on his thigh.

Despite the fact that all the wounds were closed, there was still an angry redness running the length of the slash across Blay's chest and the dark bruise surrounding the puncture on his thigh drew Qhuinn's eyes. And he knew why he felt like he'd let the male down.

Blay was alone. He was lost in some in-between world; not dead, not alive. And he didn't know that Qhuinn was out here waiting for him, loving him, ready to fight any and all enemies who would try to take him away from Qhuinn. Because Qhuinn had been a coward. Too afraid to buck the system. To stand against the _glymera_ and tell them, "You never accepted me, you never wanted me, yet you still wouldn't let me go to live my own life. To love who I wanted."

And Qhuinn wanted Blaylock. Watching this beautiful male -- _his_ beautiful male -- lying there, unaware, lost, Qhuinn knew he'd let him down by not telling him how much he was loved. By not giving Blay the strength of his love to back him up, to give him a reason to fight harder, to come home safe.

Vishous finished his exam and turned with a nod to Qhuinn, waving him forward. Then he crossed to the sink to wash his hands and with a squeeze of Qhuinn's shoulder, he left the two vampires alone.

Qhuinn snagged the back of the chair from against the wall and dragged it to the side of bed. The wave of dizziness knocked his feet out from under him and he fell heavily onto it, swallowing hard to hold in the sob that tried to escape. He blinked several times, trying to keep the threatening tears in and reached for the pale hand lying on top of the sheet. He watched his hand hover uncertainly above his friend's and frowned.

_'Come on, man, what the hell's the matter with you? This is your friend. Remember? The one you'll love till --'_

The thoughts slammed to a stop as effectively as a car against a brick wall and just about as painfully.  _The one you'll love till… when?_

Qhuinn wrapped his fingers around his friend's, feeling his friend's fingers wrap around his heart. _'The one I'll love till…'_

Till forever. Till I die. Till beyond. And to hell with anyone else. There was no one else. Nothing else mattered. This -- right here, right now -- was the only acceptance he would ever receive. John. Wrath. The Brotherhood.

Blaylock.

This was the only love he'd ever receive. And as he held on tight to the warm hand, motionless under his cheek, he finally accepted that it was the only love he ever wanted. He knew it would be hard to adjust to, at first. His conditioning ran deep; his need to belong and his fear of rejection, of being a freak, had shaped his life so absolutely. But it was time to stop kidding himself and face the cold, harsh facts.

He was going nowhere in the average, everyday world of the vampire race. It had finally come, the day his name had been stricken from all records and his family had turned him out on the road, and Qhuinn had ceased to exist anywhere but here. In fact, after the traditional honor guard had caught up to him, he'd briefly ceased to exist _anywhere._ The reparation he'd been expecting after he'd stabbed Lash for his attack on John had turned out to be something completely different. It turned out to be from his own family for the shame his actions had brought to them, according to vampire law.

But it had been taken way too far and those dealing out the beating had allowed their hatred of Qhuinn to overwhelm them and one of the participants had literally stomped his heart to a stop. And when he'd slammed back into his body as he stood in front of the door to the Fade, it had been Blay's lips on his, pushing air into his battered body. It had been his beautiful male giving him life, pulling him back to the only ones who'd ever given a shit about his sorry, miserable existence.

It was his turn now. His turn to acknowledge that everything that mattered in his world was here, lying silently, lost, in this bed.

"Blay," Qhuinn's voice was hoarse, quivering with fear. "Please, come back. Come back to me." The harsh sob tore from his chest, the depth of his pain echoing through room. "Blaylock, please, don't leave me alone here. I know I'm not worthy of you, you deserve so much better than me. But there's nothing left for me without you."

He raised his head, blinking hard to clear his vision enough to see the face in front of him. He carefully, gently, laid a hand against the pale, warm cheek, stiffening at the jolt that hit him. Like a shot of electricity, the charge rippled through his nerve endings, throwing his heart into a triple time beat and locking his breath in his throat.

"Blaylock!"

Qhuinn was sure he saw his friend's head move, just the slightest shift, but when his position didn't change Qhuinn carded his fingers through the thick red hair. His free hand stroked slowly over the chiseled cheekbone and down the muscled column of Blay's throat.

"Blay, please," Qhuinn pleaded quietly, urgently. "Blay, come on, wake up. I-I love you, Blay. I know you never expected to hear me say that. I know I've pushed you away every time you tried to get close, tried to offer your love, to offer… yourself. I'm so sorry, I can't tell you how sorry I am."

Qhuinn's control bled away as he dropped his head back down on Blay's chest and tears burned behind his closed eyelids. His body shook as his sobs choked out the words he fought to speak, the pleading he couldn't stop, the begging for forgiveness. He stretched one arm across the injured vampire's waist, squeezing tightly as he turned his face into his friend's stomach.

"I nearly lost you, Blay," he continued brokenly. "I can't lose you. I can't let you go. Nothing else matters, Blay; not the damn _glymera_ , not my shallow, miserable family, not those cover-up, fairy tale dreams of me finding a female of worth and starting a family. None of it means anything. And the shit I told you when I ran from your place, after my brother and his goons beat me to death in the road -- by the Scribe Virgin, Blaylock, I can't tell you how sorry I am. It was a lie, it was all lies. I had to protect you. I had to stop you from trying to follow me. Cos I love you, Blay, and I couldn't bear to think of you ending up in the same shit I was in. I couldn't bear to let you ruin your life like that… for me."

Qhuinn's voice trailed off, the anguish crushing him to a wordless, shaking mess. He tightened his hold on his friend, giving in to the hot tears scalding his face and soaking through the sheet to the warm skin of his male's hard abs. He drifted, the emptiness that stretched out in front of him sucking him down, and finally he became aware of a soft sound. A quiet, sibilant sound that slowly became recognizable as a soft shushing noise. The sound of comfort offered to someone in pain. And before he could raise himself up he felt the warm weight of a hand on the back of his head. As the hand stroked gently, he heard a beloved voice shushing him softly.

"Don't, Qhuinn," a soft whisper. "Don't hurt anymore."

Qhuinn choked out a harsh sob and turned his face against the hard, muscled body stretched out beside him. "I love you, Blay, I love you don't leave me please please… "

The words ran together, almost indecipherable in their grief. Qhuinn thought he'd run out of tears. He had to have, he'd shed so many already. But his friend's gentle touch, his soft, loving words, tore at Qhuinn's heart and a fresh wave of scalding tears poured from him. Then he felt Blaylock's hand slid down over his back and a moment later, he felt fingers twist weakly in the back of his sweatshirt. The hand at his back tugged a couple of times before the intent telegraphed itself into Qhuinn's scattered mind.

He raised his head and looked at Blay, who still lay with his eyes closed. "Blay?"

The beautiful face shifted slightly. The bare brush of a smile lifted his lips and Qhuinn felt the hand tug on him again.

"C'mere," Blay murmured. "C'm'up here."

Qhuinn immediately crawled up onto the hospital bed and wrapped himself around the vampire under him. The hand on his back opened and he felt the fingers spread wide, trying to cover as much space as it could as it went back to stroking him gently. Blaylock reached up to tuck Qhuinn's head under his chin, then went back to stroking his back, urging him to calmness, restfulness. As Qhuinn drifted away, he felt Blay's other arm come up around his body.

Safe in his male's arms, held tight against the body he wanted more than any others, Qhuinn shuddered through a huge sigh and disappeared.

 

CHAPTER 4

"Oh, Jesus."

John stumbled to a stop behind Vishous at the softly uttered curse and craned his neck to see around the vampire. His eyes widened as he looked at the two males curled around each other, asleep on the hospital bed. He turned to V, one eyebrow raised.

 _Good sign, you think?_ his hands flashed.

V's raised eyebrow was a visual echo. "Good something, true."

He tipped his head and stood for a moment, just watching the two unconscious bodies. The love apparent in the postures was like a warmth felt in the air. It pulsed slowly toward him, a wave of sun on a hot summer's day; languid, sensual, sapping strength but charging an internal energy.

He straightened abruptly, his lungs refusing to work, as a face flashed across his mind. A tall, powerful male, a vampire yet not, with sparkling hazel eyes and a chipped front tooth that made V want to lick his tongue over it slowly. He clenched his jaw and sucked in a quick breath then crossed the room.

He carefully insinuated his fingers between the wrist and the back under it, counting off the pulse tapping against his fingertips. As he smiled at the steady, solid beat he looked up into blue eyes. Eyes blazing with the intensity of love found; love finally acknowledged and freely given.

Vishous nodded as he straightened away from the bed. His own eyes flashed as he watched Blaylock bring his hand up and wrap around the back of Qhuinn's skull, holding him against his chest. His other arm wrapped securely across Qhuinn's back, holding his lover close to him and as Qhuinn nestled subconsciously against the warm body under him, Vishous nodded at the single tear that rolled slowly down Blay's cheek.

"He's awake," Vishous said simply as he crossed the room to the bar.

John and Butch bolted upright on the couch, exchanging careful looks of hope.

"He pulling it together finally?" Wrath asked from his spot at the pool table.

"Seems so," V answered. "Qhuinn's down with him. They're sharing the bed, if anybody wants to know. Just sleeping, of course," he finished with a snicker.

Wrath snorted. "About fucking time, is all I can say." He stepped back, letting Beth move up for her shot. He smiled indulgently at the happy grin lighting up her face. "And now maybe Blay can keep that hothead of his under control for a while. Since John's not doing such a good job at it."

Butch hooted at the hot protest tightening John's face and he rolled into him, taking him down to the floor in a scrimmage. The two vampires rolled around for a while, taking turns at having the upper hand till finally Wrath and Vishous approached them from opposite sides. Each grabbed a t-shirt by the scruff and in seconds had the wrestling friends on their feet.

"Take it to the gym, not my living room," Wrath growled good-naturedly, giving John a teeth rattling shake.

V stood behind his roommate, his muscular arm slung tight across Butch's chest. He could feel the rumble of Butch's laugh spark through his skin and he sucked in a quick gasp. Before he could step back, he felt a hot hand brush up the front of his thigh. The gasp locked in his chest as the hand kept moving till he felt it squeeze briefly over the hard-on fast filling out the front of his jeans. Then Butch was moving away and Vishous took a quick step around, facing the bar again, slamming his drink back as he fought to bring his breathing back under control.

Qhuinn felt warmth stroking slowly over his back and he snuggled tighter against the body under him. He rose slowly from the depths of sleep and as he drew in a deep breath, the familiar scent spread through him.

Blaylock!

He pushed up onto his elbow, searching Blay's face. He gasped as the warm blue eyes locked with his and he fought for a breath at the love that spilled out over him.

"Blay," he breathed, cupping his friend's face gently.

Blaylock leaned into the touch, nuzzling his cheek into the warm palm sliding over his skin. He kept his gaze locked with Qhuinn's hoping the declarations he'd heard while lost deep inside weren't a hallucination. He lifted his hand slowly, reaching to slide his fingers over Qhuinn's lips.

"God, Blaylock!" Qhuinn cried out hoarsely at the tender touch.

Qhuinn thrust his fingers deep into Blay's hair and bent down, taking Blay's mouth roughly. He briefly thought he should be careful. After all, his friend was recovering from some pretty bad injuries and the tight grip he had around this warm, pliant body could possibly aggravate those injuries. But he barely had the thought before all that mattered were his arms tight around the body that was straining hard against his. All that mattered was the soft, full lips opening under the assault from his mouth, the tongue meeting his in a duel for dominance. All that mattered were the fingers scrabbling at his back, fighting to draw him even closer.

Qhuinn broke the kiss to gasp a breath into his starving lungs and then realized he didn't care if he could breathe. All that mattered was he finally had his male in his arms.

"Blay, I love you," he whispered brokenly, his lips burning their way down Blay's throat. "Don't leave me, please. You're all that matters to me, you're everything that matters."

He dragged his tongue over the soft, sweet spot just under Blay's ear and suckled the skin. Blay moaned, arching his back and digging his fingers into Qhuinn's shoulders.

"Qhuinn, I've loved you forever," he gasped softly. "I couldn't leave you if it meant my life. But I never thought you'd come to me."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Qhuinn muttered nearly incoherently. "I don't deserve you, I've hurt you so much and you deserve so much more. Someone better than me but please don't go looking. I can't live without you. I can't make it if I lose you and I'm so sorry I let a bunch of shit that doesn't mean anything get in the way."

Blaylock shifted till his legs slid out from under the sheet covering him and he wrapped his legs around Qhuinn's waist. He caught Qhuinn's face in his hands and turned his face up to his.

"Qhuinn, shhh, Qhuinn, stop tearing yourself apart. You are mine. You've always been mine, even before you would admit it. And now that I have you here, I'm not letting you go anywhere. And I'm not going anywhere, either." He pulled Qhuinn down, taking his mouth softly, gently. "Please, Qhuinn. Forget all that crap and just be here now, with me. Love me. I need you, Qhuinn."

Qhuinn shook his head even as he tightened his grip on his lover. "You were hurt so bad. I can't hurt you more."

"Qhuinn." Blaylock carded his fingers through the soft hair under his hands. "I'm fine. I'm healing and you're very mistaken if you think I'm letting go of you any time soon." He tightened his legs around his friend's waist and arched up against him. "Love me, Qhuinn, please. I need you so much."

"Blaylock," Qhuinn whispered brokenly, burying his face in the warm skin of Blay's neck.

His lips burned against Blay's throat as his hands found their way down to cup the vampire's ass. He held the male tight to him, burning kisses down the muscled column of Blay's neck and over his broad chest. Blay threw his head back and arched up as Qhuinn's mouth closed over his nipple, sucking the little nub into a hard, painful peak. The low moan rolled from him and his hands scrabbled against the back of Qhuinn's sweatshirt, pulling up on the material, frantic to get it off. Qhuinn shifted, sliding his lips across the well-formed pecs to give reciprocal attention to Blay's other nipple, determined to work his lover into a frenzy.

It was working very well. Blay moaned again, barely able to think beyond a desperate need to pull his lover deep inside him and as Qhuinn's broad hands slid down inside his sweatpants and over his heated skin, Blay cried out his lover's name.

"Please, please…" he begged. "I need you, Qhuinn. I want you so bad."

Qhuinn shifted to his knees, pulling down Blay's sweatpants as he rose. Blay lifted himself allowing his pants to slip off his narrow hips and the pants and sheet slid from his body together. Qhuinn's eyes were riveted on his lover's magnificent body as he quickly stripped off his own clothes, dropping them to the floor, and he sat back on his heels, letting his gaze roam over the flushed, heaving body laid out before him.

"Oh my god, Qhuinn, please, what are you doing?" Blay cried brokenly, his hands reaching out.

"I'm drowning in your beauty, lover," Qhuinn whispered hoarsely, catching Blay's hands and pulling them to his growing erection. He gasped sharply as Blay's hands tightened around the rock hard cock jutting out in front of him.

"I want you to drown in me, Qhuinn," Blay begged, squeezing and stroking the trembling member burning against his palm.

Qhuinn dropped his head, taking Blay's mouth again as he reached for the small table beside the bed. His fingers closed over a tube of antibiotic cream Vishous had left behind and he twisted off the lid. Without leaving Blay's mouth, he squeezed the cream onto his fingers and immediately slid his fingers down the crevice of Blaylock's ass, seeking the opening to his most private place.

Blay gasped, breaking the kiss as his head rolled back and his body arched into Qhuinn's as his lover's finger slid deep inside his body. He cried out again and again as Qhuinn stroked into him, adding a second, then a third finger into the hot, silky channel.

Qhuinn tried to scissor his fingers open, wanting to loosen his lover, to prepare him, but Blay's body gripped his fingers so tightly, spasming and shivering around him.

"My god, Blay," Qhuinn growled against his lover's neck. "You're so tight, so hot. I want to crawl inside you and never come out."

"Then do it," Blaylock breathed. "I need you, Qhuinn. I want you, right now. Please… "

Qhuinn lifted himself up and grabbed the tube of cream again. He coated his throbbing cock and shifted between Blay's spread legs. Hooking his arms under his lover's knees, opening him even farther, he pressed the slick head of his cock against the swollen, pulsing opening and thrust hard. Blaylock screamed as Qhuinn sheathed himself right to his balls in one deep, hard thrust.

"Baby, I love you," Qhuinn groaned as he thrust hard and fast. "You are everything to me and… oh, sweet Scribe Virgin, what you do to me, Blaylock, what you do to me."

Blay's legs wrapped around his waist as Qhuinn reached under his lover, cupping the tight globes of his ass and pulling him even closer. He thrust hard, sheathing himself deep inside Blay before pulling nearly completely out, sliding deep again as Blay's heat seared his skin. As he felt the tingling and tightening of his spine, the molten lava pooling low in his back, he pushed himself up and slammed his fists into the mattress on either side of Blay's head. He braced himself as he drove his aching cock into the beautiful male under him, straining to impart with every move of his body the depth of his love for his best friend.

"Qhuinn!" Blay wailed, his body shuddering, his legs tightening around the huge, muscular body slamming into him. "I love you, Qhuinn, so much sometimes I ache. Please, please, Qhuinn… "

"Shh, baby, I'm here," Qhuinn breathed in his ear, his lips burning up Blay's throat and over his jaw. "Come for me, baby, I wanna feel you come for me."

He took Blay's mouth in a hard kiss, urgent, on fire, and as he bit and sucked at the lush lower lip, he felt his lover's balls draw up against his body and knew he was close. He reached between their slick bodies and wrapped his hand around Blay's cock.

There was no gentleness in this lovemaking; his need was too hot, too all-consuming. He gave everything he had and took everything he needed as he drove into the sweet, trembling body in his arms. He tightened his grip on Blay's cock, sliding his hand up and down the rock hard shaft with the same rhythm as his thrusts and as his orgasm finally exploded through him, Blay tore himself free from Qhuinn's kiss. Wailing his name brokenly, he came apart in Qhuinn's hands, the heat from his orgasm pulsing and burning over his lover's stomach and chest.

Qhuinn's seed filled his lover's slick, hot passage and Blay clawed at his back and shoulders, pulling him closer yet as his own creamy bursts still pulsed out between them. Qhuinn whispered his name again and again, his body wrapped tight around the other vampire as he shuddered his way through the last of his orgasm.

 

CHAPTER 5

John was itching to head down to the clinic to see for himself how Blaylock was doing but Vishous talked him out of it.

"John, give them some time. They won't be sleeping forever and do you really wanna walk into that if they're awake by the time you get down there?"

Vishous' deep laugh rumbled through his chest at John's involuntary shudder. "I'll tell you this much," V continued, taking pity on the younger vampire. "When I checked him out before leaving the two of them alone, Blay was doing great. The wounds were all closed up; they won't need much more time for everything to get back to looking normal. And all his vitals were looking good enough I'll hazard that the concussion is healing up fast, too. I know you're itching to see him for yourself, but just --"

He broke off at the soft murmuring at the door to billiards room, cocking an eyebrow as he watched Qhuinn leading Blaylock into the room, his arm tight around the redhead's waist.

John leapt to his friend's free side, adding his own arm to the support, both him and Qhuinn ignoring Blay's protests that he could manage just fine, thank you very much.

"He insisted he was good enough to get up," Qhuinn explained with a shrug and a contrite look at Vishous as he and John led Blay over to the couch. "I didn't know how to make him stay put short of sitting on him and I didn't think that would help his recovery any."

V crossed the room, squatting down in front of his patient. "How long's he been awake?" he asked as he lifted Blay's hospital scrubs' top to check the chest slice. He shot a quick look up at Qhuinn when nothing was forthcoming.

The warmth coloring the vampire's face drew a smirk from the Brotherhood's medic but V was determined to pull this out all the way so he just waited for a response.

"It's been… a… few minutes," Qhuinn muttered self-consciously, his attempts to sound casual failing dismally.

"Yeah, I'll bet it has," V rumbled deeply, the dry tone setting fire to the flush spreading down Qhuinn's neck. When he turned back to his patient, a huge grin spread over his face at the satisfied smile Blay was wearing.

"Well, it would appear that there's not much point in sending you back to bed, true?" he cracked. "I mean, if you've got that much energy… "

He trailed off pointedly, laughing outright this time as Qhuinn gave him a shove.

"Ok, you can quit any time now," he growled as he dropped down beside Blay and pulled the male into the circle of his arms and back against his chest. He looked up as the king and his _shellan_ , Beth, entered the room.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," he boomed out, hearing Beth whisper Blay's name. He let Beth lead him over to the couch and stood in front of one of his newest soldiers while Beth pushed John over to make room for her. "How are you doing, son? You had your boy here totally freaked for a while there."

Blay looked over at Qhuinn, not hiding the love shining out of his eyes. "I'm 100% better than I was, sir, thank you."

Wrath snorted. "Well, if that's Qhuinn I can hear breathing hard beside you, I should think so, and it's damn well about time, is all I can say to that. Not that it was _your_ fault," he added, turning to glare at Qhuinn.

Though Qhuinn knew the king, being completely blind, couldn't actually see him, he still squirmed under that hot gaze. He sucked in a deep breath but when he opened his mouth to speak, Blay reached up. Catching Qhuinn by the nape of his neck, he pulled his lover's head down, taking his mouth in a soft, warm kiss. He ignored the hoots and catcalls started by Vishous, as well as John's loud clapping, and leaned into the big, hard body as he felt Qhuinn's arms tighten around him.

"Never mind, my own, none of that matters now. You're here, you've come to me now, and that's what counts."

Keeping his eyes on the only person he needed to keep his heart beating, Qhuinn spoke to V. "He doesn't have to go back down to the clinic, does he?"

"No, but I want him to take it easy for a least another night. If everything looks good tomorrow, he can go back on rotation then. You can crash in your own bed, Blay."

"No," Qhuinn murmured, holding Blaylock's gaze. "He'll be in my room. I'll move his stuff over in the morning."

Blay's breath hitched in his chest and his beautiful blue eyes filled slowly. He blinked hard, trying to push back the tears he'd fought off for so long. Even though these were now tears of joy, of happiness and gratitude to the Scribe Virgin, he refused to let them fall here, in front of his warrior brothers. If he started, he might not be able to stop.

He'd become more certain with each passing day that he'd never have a chance with the one male he wanted more than anyone or anything in this world and in fact, had nearly decided he'd have to leave the mansion and give up his shot at becoming a Brother. It was hurting too much to be around Qhuinn knowing there was no hope of his love being accepted… or returned.

He'd tried for so long to convince himself that Qhuinn _did_ love him, that he was only trying to protect Blay from giving up everything to follow him after the incident with Lash. But the pain was huge as he watched Qhuinn still trying to protect himself after a lifetime of rejection by everyone who meant anything to him, as he still believed that a female of worth and his own young was all it would take to make his world right.

And the more time that passed, the less Blay was able to hold onto the fairy tale belief that if Qhuinn would just give it a chance, would just _take_ the chance with Blay, he'd see that everything that _really_ mattered was right here, and he was fast reaching the point of tossing in the towel.

But the miracle had finally happened. His heart and soul, his own, had finally come to him. Had finally realized that he had it all in his hands already. That Blaylock would give anything, do anything, to make Qhuinn feel accepted… and loved. That here was someone who would always be there, no matter what. Who would take on the world to keep him safe, to show him he belonged, to make him believe that all the love and passion he could ever want or need was wrapped around him, secure within his arms.

"Put your boy to bed, Qhuinn," Vishous spoke up from the bar. He raised his glass in a mock salute, fighting to hold his grin in. "He needs his rest and I think it's gonna take him more time than it should to get it."

"Vishous," Beth scolded gently, coughing to cover her own laugh at the huge smirk on John's face.

Blay ignored the friendly teasing, his eyes locked on Qhuinn as the big male pulled him gently to his feet. He knew his male was overcompensating for his previous distance, as well as over his fear for Blay's health, but he didn't protest. He's heard the heart wrenching cries and pleadings as he fought his way up from the fog he'd been drifting in and he knew how terrified Qhuinn had been of losing him. If Qhuinn needed to fuss over him for a while to start feeling safe and secure again, well, Blay could let him have that. And once he got him upstairs, Blay could let his beautiful male wrap himself around him and he could start showing Qhuinn what it felt like to really be loved.

Qhuinn kept his arm tight around Blay's waist as they made their way slowly up the stairs, not loosening up at all as they headed down the long length of the hallway. But when they reached Qhuinn's room, Blay turned in his arms and once again reached up to pull the vampire to him.

Qhuinn's arms slid around the muscular body pressed against him, his hands sliding down to cup the perfect, round globes of Blay's ass. He pulled his friend in tight against him as his mouth took Blay's; hot, urgent, almost desperate.

Blay reached behind him, not breaking an inch of contact as he turned the knob and pushed the door out of the way. As Qhuinn broke the kiss to drag in a breath to his starving lungs, Blay let his head fall back, giving Qhuinn access to his throat. And as Qhuinn descended on that creamy smooth skin, sucking hard and dragging his fast lengthening fangs over that pulse point beating under his lips, Blay moaned softly.

"Come, lover," he breathed. "Let me take you into me and show you where your heaven has always been waiting."

Qhuinn gave out a ragged growl and swung Blay up into his arms. Kicking the door shut behind him, he threw the lock with his mind, and in three quick strides crossed to the bed and bore his male down. Blay was barely aware of Qhuinn tearing his clothes from him, or his own, for that matter, but when he felt hot skin pressing against his, when he felt Qhuinn's huge erection stabbing into his belly, he threw his head back again and cried out his lover's name.

"Never again," Qhuinn growled against Blay's throat as his knee pushed between Blay's thighs. "Never again will I be apart from you."

Blay spread his legs wide, giving Qhuinn access to his hot, throbbing center. His bonding scent started rising, washing over both males. Qhuinn could barely think as the warm, spicy smell filled his head and he reached out to the bedside table, rummaging through the drawer frantically. As his fingers closed around the tube of lube, his own bonding scent rose, filling the room in seconds. Blay groaned, arching into his friend. Qhuinn could barely handle the tube, his need was exploding through him, and flipping open the top and turning the tube one-handedly, he squeezed a glob of the lube into his palm.

With a quick swipe over his rock hard cock, he reached his slick fingers out to Blay's ass, sliding between the firm, rounded cheeks, searching for that hidden opening to Blay's core. Blay's cried out, his warm breath washing over Qhuinn's jaw as his opening was breached, taking in one finger first, then quickly a second and a third.

Qhuinn was frantic to sink himself into his quivering lover but he didn't want to hurt him, either. He felt Blay pushing down onto his hand as Qhuinn thrust deep into him, stretching and loosening his lover before taking him.

Blay screamed Qhuinn's name as searching fingers brushed over his prostate, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. "Please, Qhuinn, please… I can't take it anymore. Please, I need you in me now. Please, take me, make me yours."

Qhuinn pulled his fingers free and cupped Blay's ass cheeks again, lifting his hips and pulling him closer. Pressing the throbbing, engorged head of his cock against Blay's opening he thrust hard and deep, seating himself right to the balls in one thrust.

"You have always been mine," he ground out through gritted teeth as Blaylock spasmed against him, his nails clawing down Qhuinn's back. "You _will_ always be mine and I don't care what anyone says, I _will_ wear your name on my back."

He hammered into his lover's body, his cock sliding in and out of the slick, hot passage as he kissed away the tears slipping down Blay's face to soak into his thick, silky hair. When Blay turned his head, his mouth searching blindly, Qhuinn took his lush lips; sucking the full bottom lip between his fangs, their tongues dueling for dominance.

Qhuinn felt the heat building in his lower back and his balls drew up tight to his body and he knew he was ready to spill. His nostrils flared at the rise in Blay's bonding scent and as he smelled his own scent thicken, he licked up the side of Blay's neck and bit down hard.

Blay wailed brokenly as his orgasm crashed down on them, his cock shooting pulses of thick, creamy cum hot against Qhuinn's chest and his own belly.

As he pulled deep at the vein open under his mouth, Qhuinn groaned harshly as he felt Blay's passage spasm around his aching cock as his climax took him. The clench and release of Blay's slick channel around Qhuinn along with the taste of Blay's warm, spicy blood was too much for him and his own orgasm slammed into him. He swiped his tongue over the twin bites to stop the bleeding and when he threw back his head, Blay leaned forward and sank his fangs into his lover's neck.

Qhuinn screamed Blay's name as the sensual feel of his lover at his throat kicked through his cock, pulling another orgasm from him when he was barely finished with the first one. He could feel Blay's hot passage still clenching hard around him and knew his male was also still in the throes of his orgasm.

Slowly, slowly, breathing slowed and heart rates returned to a calmer state. Qhuinn felt the warm wetness of Blay's tongue as he licked over the bites he'd made and tucked his head under Qhuinn's chin. And Qhuinn held him tight to him, still wrapped around him, still buried deep in his body, and let himself drift toward sleep.

He heard Blay whisper, "I love you so much," and as he whispered it back, he couldn't stop himself from wondering what had ever made him think he didn't need this; didn't want it.

Because this was all he'd _ever_ needed.

Because everything good and decent and honorable about him came from his belief in himself, in his integrity. And that came from knowing he was a male of worth.

And _that_ came from the male under him, wrapped in his arms. From the male he was still buried deep inside.

The one who'd shown him he was _always_ worth loving.

 

 

The End


End file.
